The Last Virgin. Dorie Graham
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be here all night at this rate.”
“No problem.” Bess sighed. “When I left, the girls were fighting, and Tom was glued to the TV, oblivious!” She frowned. “I wonder if they’ve noticed I’m gone.”
An all-too-familiar empathy filled Sabrina. Shaking her head, she followed her friend past a row of faceless mannequins to the dressing area. Though motherhood had proven a blessing for Bess, who loved her children, a certain wistfulness sometimes filled her eyes. That look tore at Sabrina.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Bess handed her several items from her pile as they reached the changing area. “It’s about time you decided to dress like a woman.”
“What does that mean?” Sabrina hung up the garments. “I dress like a woman.”
“Yes, everything you own is feminine, in a flowing kind of way, but in this…” She picked up a plum-colored dress with a plunging neckline. “In this you’ll be all woman.”
Sabrina snatched the dress, then closed the dressing room door.
She turned to the full-length mirror gracing one wall. Frowning, she surveyed her long, loose blouse and black leggings. Bess was right. One dress wouldn’t be enough. Sabrina’s wardrobe needed an overhaul. She sighed. Her life needed an overhaul.
She slipped out of the blouse and leggings. She’d had to dig deep into her drawer to find the matching black panties and demi-bra she now wore. The satiny fabric caressed her as she reached for the plum-colored dress. She slid one hand over the curve of her breast, rounded by the push-up bra. Tingles of sexual awareness shot through her and she sighed. Her cotton underthings had never made her feel this sexy. It was as though her encounter with Noah had freed her to explore her sensual self.
She bit her lip as the memory of his heated stare washed over her. How would he react to seeing her in her scant lingerie? Warmth spread through her. Her heart quickened the way it had when he’d threaded his fingers through her hair. That one innocent gesture had sent her hormones tripping. What would happen if he really touched her?
He filled her mind with fantasies that grew more stimulating with each passing day. She flushed at the memory of waking in a sweat that morning, the sheets tangled around her legs, and the dream of Noah’s lovemaking fresh on her mind.
With a groan, she cupped her breasts and squeezed, while pressing her thighs together. The sexual ache only intensified. Could she make love with Noah?
She turned and her dream Noah, golden skin gleaming in all his natural glory, grinned his sexy grin. “Have you missed me, my sweet? Do you ache for me again?”
He moved before her, so close his warm breath fanned her cheek. “Here, allow me.”
She let his hands replace hers on her breasts. His palms cupped and squeezed her, while his fingers teased her taut nipples through the lace. A moan worked its way from her throat. His hot mouth covered the lace. He suckled her long and hard, the pleasure so intense she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
The ache between her thighs had become almost unbearable. She gasped as he pressed her to the wall, then wedged his knee between her legs, urging her to straddle him. He claimed her mouth, his tongue hot against hers, his hands coaching her hips to ride him, sending more pleasure burning through her.
Once she’d caught her rhythm he continued to kiss her, while rolling her nipples between his fingers, pushing her to a faster and faster pace.
“Yes,” she murmured as the tension peaked inside her. “Yes, yes, yeeesss…”
Sabrina slumped against the dressing room wall. These fantasies were getting more intense. She needed to make love with Noah. She peered again into the mirror. She didn’t look so innocent now wearing her sexy lingerie and flushed cheeks. Doubt assailed her. She may not look innocent, but she was. She’d never measure up to Noah’s more experienced partners.
Setting aside her misgivings, she put on the plum-colored dress, then turned to the mirror. “Oh.” She stared in wonder.
If possible, the dress proved more provocative than her lacy underwear. The fabric floated over her, skimming her curves and drifting in a silky sheen over her thighs. The scooping neckline exposed cleavage nonexistent without the demi-bra. As she slowly turned, confidence blossomed in her.
In this dress, Sabrina was all woman.
“Sabrina?” Bess called, then knocked on the door. “How’s it going? I’m dying to see…”
Sabrina swung the door open, smiling at her friend’s slack jaw. She stepped out and moved toward a three-sided mirror.
“Oh my.” Bess stood beside her. “Sexy definitely works on you.” She rubbed the satiny fabric between her fingers. “Did they have one of these in my size?”
Laughter bubbled from Sabrina’s throat. “I don’t even feel like me. I feel so…so exhilarated!” She spread her arms and spun. When she stopped, she grinned at her reflection. Her eyes sparkled and pink flushed her cheeks. “I almost feel like I could do anything in this dress.”
“Like win the heart of a dedicated playboy? I know that look of yours, Sabrina—”
“Stop.” Sabrina held up her hand. “I refuse to listen to any dire warnings.” She caught Bess’s eye in the mirror. “I’m a big girl. I’m tired of waiting for my life to happen.” She squared her shoulders and turned her gaze back to her own reflection. “It’s time I made my life happen.”
“Honey, believe me. With that dress, things are going to happen. The question is, are you really ready? And can you do this without being emotionally involved?”
Sabrina stilled. The thrill of those few moments with Noah had sustained her for days. If she closed her eyes, she could see the appreciation in his dark gaze, feel her heart race and her soul lift with an instant recognition. It was as though meeting him had jolted her into awareness.
“He’s The One, Bess.” She let the quiet statement settle over them, then she turned with a smile. “You know, with the weather heating up I could use a new swimsuit and a sundress or two. So, let’s see what else we can find. I think we’re onto something here.”
THE SUN FILTERED through the garden window of Sabrina’s compact kitchen, showering light on her assortment of begonias and miniature roses. A curl of steam drifted up from her big coffee cup. She glanced up and frowned at the date on her kitchen calendar. Friday the thirteenth, her big day. She lifted her mug in salute. “Happy birthday to me.”
Ignoring a vague sense of impending doom, she focused on the night to come. The wall phone rang beside her. She swallowed the hot brew and lifted the receiver. “Morning, Mom.”
“Happy birthday, darling. You aren’t moping about, are you?” Gabriella Walker’s voice held its usual note of censure.
“Actually, no. I was just toasting the grand occasion.”
“Sabrina, it’s nine in the morning. Surely you’re not drinking?”
“Just coffee.”
“Decaf?”
Sabrina grimaced. “No.”
“That caffeine will age you, dear, mark my word. You’re such a beauty now. And young. Oh, to be young again. To have your figure, your skin. I’d take good care if I were you, I would. Unfortunately, men notice the package first, you know.” In spite of her nagging, warmth laced Gabriella’s words.
“You’re still a beauty, Mom. I know Dad thinks so. You’ll always be his Buttercup.”
A short silence stretched across the line.
“Mom?”
Her mother cleared her throat. “Yes, dear. Our other line is beeping in. I’ll have your father call later. You enjoy the day. Close that shop of yours. Take some time off. I love you, Sabrina,